by Ana Balen
With my hope crushed again, I go in search of the woman who made my life go from Hell to Heaven.
Only thing is I can’t find her anywhere.
She’s not in her office or in the break room. And I know she doesn’t have any meetings on her schedule. I made sure of that.
“She said she doesn’t feel well and is taking the rest of the day off,” Beth answers knowingly on my fifth pass down the hallway.
Fuck, is it possible that the woman knows? For someone who fucked half the company, she sure is giving me an awfully accusing look.
“Ah,” with nothing else to say, I only nod my head to her and go back into my office. Sitting down in my chair I take my phone and try calling Heather.
No answer.
Fuck!
I knew it the moment I’ve seen her eyes after I told Beth to send in Claire, she was going to run. Only problem is, I don’t know where she’s run off to.
After three more times of calling her with the same result, I type in a quick message
Pretty girl, where are you?
Later, I type one more
Baby, please answer me… or better yet, come back.
They both go unanswered
Chapter Two
Heather
I all but run out of the office.
I’ve never expected I would tell Nick I love him. The fact that at the same exact moment his wife showed up and almost caught us is terrifying.
The moment I laid eyes on her I knew I didn’t have a chance. He would never leave her to be with me.
She’s so beautiful, so sophisticated.
She looks like a queen with a body of a model.
“Heather,” Beth calls after me. I can’t handle any questions right now, but I have no choice but to answer her.
Swiping up my tears that started to leak out slowly, I put on a fake smile and turn. “Yes?”
“Oh,” she states, her face turning from curious to knowing in a flash. “Are you all right, dear?”
“Yes, Beth,” I say when in actuality I want to scream that no, I’m not all right. I just told a married man that I love him.
“Mr. Matthews is here to see you,” Beth gestures to the chairs that are on the right side of her desk. And sure enough, the kind eyes of Eric Matthews lie on me.
“Oh,” I fist my hand harder hoping that the panties I’m holding aren’t visible under the file in my arm. “Mr. Matthews, how can I help you?”
I have no idea what he’s doing here, we closed that deal weeks ago. If there’s anything that is left unresolved, he should talk with Nick. I have completed my part of the job.
And look where it got you. I remind myself sarcastically.
“I wanted to talk to you, Miss. Turner, but if it’s a bad time, I can come some other time,” he looks towards Beth who shrugs her shoulders.
“No, No, of course not. Now is perfectly fine,” I lie, clenching my teeth. “If you would follow me,” I wait until he reaches me, then send another fake smile Beth’s way and lead Mr. Matthews to my office.
Sitting down, I throw the file on my desk and discreetly put my ruined panties in my bag.
“Are you sure you all right, Miss. Turner?”
“Yes, yes,” I repeat on autopilot. “Now how can I help you?” I know I’ve been a part of the deal he made with Nick, but once the contracts were signed that’s where my role ended. He sold Nick the controlling percentage of his company, so any requests, demands or business opportunities he has should go through Nick.
“I know this is not how things are done,” he pulls at his tie, then smoothes it over his large chest. I can’t help but notice that for an elderly man, he looks good. I wonder if Nick will look this good when he’s older. “But I’ve been trying to get hold of you. You’ve impressed me at all those meetings, holding the room captive and being on top of your game.”
“Thank you,” I’m surprised, never in a million years would I expect him to say this.
“I know Nick would hate to lose you, but I’m here to offer you a job. I would like for us to meet and discuss this further,” he finishes.
I’m here to offer you a job.
Nick would hate to lose you.
I love you.
The last words that flow through my mind are the ones that Nick said to me.
Presented with the perfect exit strategy from the situation I found myself in, all I can think are those words.
I love you.
I love you. I love you.
They echo in my head over and over again.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Matthews,” I stand up abruptly. “I have to go. Could we please finish this some other time?”
“Yes, of course,” he slowly rises from his seat looking me over. “I’ll send you an email with my offer and you can call me to discuss it and what it would take to bring you over.”
Nodding, I murmur “Thank you,” I grab my bag and walk out almost colliding with Beth in the hallway.
“Heather are you sure you’re okay?” she has a firm hold on my upper arms and this time I can’t hide my tears.
“No,” I mouth, my throat clogged not letting any sound out.
“I knew this would happen,” she mutters almost to herself. Giving me a squeeze, she rushes out, “Go. Get out of here.”
I don’t ask her if she’s sure. I don’t ask what she meant by saying she knew something would happen.
I say a hoarse “Thank you,” and run out determined to flee this situation.
If only it would be that easy.
Chapter Three
Heather
Sir, your wife is here.
The words are playing on endless loop in my mind for the past few days now, not letting me forget even for a second how close we came to being discovered by Nick’s wife. Or the fact that what we’re doing is wrong, wrong, wrong.
Not even walking down this lane, a path I was on so much in my life, the greenery giving me an illusion of tranquility, isn’t helping.
I used to run here, in these woods when I was younger, when I needed to run away from constant yelling in my house, or from the mean kids that tortured me in school after my mom made her choice. But even the branches that hung low over the lane, the same ones I would climb on and just listen to the stillness of the air and finally getting the quiet I so much needed, is not doing anything to help me forget even for a second that moment in Nick’s office.
The last time we were together.
After seeing him with his wife, I knew we had to stop. I never thought about Claire, never even asked myself, or Nick, how their life is, how they became an item. And never questioned what would come in the future.
Would there be a future, our future?
Would he leave her and start a new life with me, or would he stay with her?
That would mean we would eventually break up, right? But, in the moment she opened the door, all those questions started swimming in my mind, and I didn’t like the answers I was getting.
No, he would never leave her; no matter how bad it was at home because he would never jeopardize his relationship with his son. Was it bad though? What’s the reason he went searching for another woman? Because, knowing the fact or not, he was searching. Then luck would have it, he found me. And I was too weak, wanted him too much, to say no.
So, I knew I had to go away. Away from Nick, because no matter I knew all those things, I also know I can’t resist him. It took all my will power not to answer his texts, or his calls that day. I wish he’d stop. If he did, I wouldn’t cave. But even with the much needed distance between us, with his every text, my resolve became more weak, until, it completely disappeared. The funny thing is, the only way I knew how to do it, how to get away from him, from temptation, was to leave town and go back to the only place I swore I would never go back to.
Home.
God, I hate this place.
And even though the ghosts are trying to push through, my mother heard that I’m here and is calling twenty ti
mes a day and she won’t stop until I answer, and I can see Erin is hiding something from me, all I can think about is Nick.
His eyes.
His mouth.
His hands.
The way he makes me feel.
Desirable.
Sexy.
Reckless.
Free.
I don’t remember the last time I felt free.
I know it’s wrong, I know I should stop. The only problem is, I can’t.
I keep finding new excuses so I could have him all to myself in those rare moments. I keep giving us the permission to continue with this… this affair we’re having. Once the fact that what we have, what we share is nothing more than an affair and I’m just a mistress, the other woman, hits my brain all the good feelings and images go away and the fact that it needs to stop becomes more clear. Until his next text, his sweet words, or him begging me to come back to him shows up on my phone screen.
And to be honest, I don’t want to lose him and at the same time I don’t know how to let him go. Well, I actually do, just break up and go away, I’m just not sure if I’m strong enough. I was never in my life torn so much. One minute I’m all in to break us up, to leave and forget it ever happened, the next my insides shake with yearning for the man.
I need to make a game plan. I need to find a new job, preferably in the different city and just disappear from his life, letting him continue on his own. And make a new one for me.
Just the thought of not seeing him, hearing him speak, not feeling his touch makes my heart hurt. It’s just another validation I’m way over my head here.
How could I let this happen?
How could I let myself fall so deeply in love with another woman’s husband?
Unfortunately for me, as it always was, the leaves don’t have the answers I need.
*~*~*
“Baby, I miss you,” his voice in that sweet whisper sends shivers from my ear, down to my arm, and all the way to my clit where it gives a nice little spasm.
All the pep-talk I gave myself on my walk is long forgotten. My will power and determination crumbled the moment I saw his name flashing on my screen. And for the rest of the afternoon I was waiting for this moment, for his call, just so I could hear his voice.
God, how I wish I could put my hands on him right now.
I miss him, I need him.
“I hate we’re not together right now,” he continues in that rich voice of his, not even aware of what he’s doing to me. How he turns me on. How he brings me to the point where I don’t care if he’s married and we can be together. All I care is that I finally have him all to myself, even if it’s just over the phone.
“I know,” I murmur, snuggling deeper under my covers, my hand mindlessly stroking my belly.
“Did you get that video I sent you this afternoon?” There’s a new tone in his voice. More dangerous one. The one that does not only give me goosebumps and clit spasm, but actually makes my pussy weep, and my panties drenched.
God, that video.
I must’ve looked at it a hundred times before I deleted it.
And every single time I watched it, I came. Even though it lasted only a minute and a half. But that minute and a half is the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.
“Mmmm…,” I’m incapable of speech. I’m again lost to the image of Nick’s hand going up and down his hard cock, and hearing his voice whisper my name over and over asking me, do I see what a mere thought of me does to him.
“Did you watch it?” he asks.
“Maybe,” I try to be vague, but the hitch in my voice is a dead giveaway.
“Did you enjoy it?” It’s as if he can see my hand gliding down my belly, towards my panties, his voice takes that harshness it has when we’re together. The rough and velvet tone it has when he’s inside me, when he bends my body as he wishes, when he’s fucking me. The one that makes me do anything he wants.
“Maybe,” I whisper.
“What’re you doing now, pretty girl?”
“I’m in my bed,” I tease him, but I don’t the get reaction I’m hoping for, that of his groan or something along those lines. Instead I get dead air. “Nick?” I call confused. Just as I pull the phone from my ear, my laptop that’s sitting right next to me on the bed starts ringing, indicating I have a video call.
I slide my finger quickly across the mouse pad, accepting the call, and finally I see his beautiful face. There are dark and red circles around his eyes, as if he was rubbing them constantly. His hair is a mess, sticking all around his head. It’s clear he didn’t shave for a few days. And his eyelids are half closed. “You okay, baby?” I ask concerned.
“I’m great now, pretty girl. Now that I can finally see you,” His eyes lose the tired look in them and become so intense, I start to get lost. God, it’s almost like he’s drinking me in. It’s only been a couple of days since we haven’t seen each other, but it feels like it’s been a year.
He’s in his office still.
It’s mostly dark, there’s a soft light coming from his right side, his desk lamp is on, illuminating him, and the back of his black leather chair.
Every fiber of my being screams in agony and longing.
I want to be there with him so much, I can almost taste it.
I can almost taste him.
“Now, show me what you’re hiding under the covers,” he commands.
I don’t ask any questions, don’t object in any way, I just push the laptop screen back so he can see most of me and flick the covers off me, exposing myself to him. I’m in my purple bra and panty set and I made sure to add a garter belt and nude colored stockings because I was thinking of making a little video of my own for him, to show him what his video has done to me. But he called me before I could gather the courage and do it. It’s even better this way, hearing the soft intake of breath he can’t hide, his mouth opening and his tongue softly touching his upper lip. His eyes widen slightly, then half a second later his eyelids close halfway. Only this time it has nothing to do with him being tired. He’s trying to focus on my face, but he can’t get them to stay there, they keep wandering all over the screen. Looking at him as he gives up the fight and surrendering to this passion between us is empowering. I wish I could feel him, hold him, and have him right next to me.
God, I love this man.
“Goddamnit Heather, someday you’re going to kill me,” his eyes are going up and down and side to side, still looking all over me on his screen.
I don’t answer him and say I feel the same, I just arch my back up a little, putting myself on display for him.
“Did you enjoy my video, pretty girl?” He asks again, his voice getting that velvet roughness I love so much.
“Yes, Sir,” I give him a sweet smile.
“And what did you do when you watched it?” I can see his Adam’s apple going up and down. Damn, I could lick it all over and still want more.
“I… I…,” I stutter. I can feel my face heating up and I look down not able to look at him anymore. I had a flash image in my mind when he called me, picturing myself as a vixen, teasing him, making him want me more. For once turning the tables and have him in my mercy, but my boldness dies a quick death and I’m unable to go through with it.
“Now, now, pretty girl,” he chastises me. “Don’t be shy, tell me.”
I don’t say anything; just keep my eyes fixed on my bellybutton.
“Okay,” he sighs. I look back at the screen and see he’s wearing a devilish smile, “if you won’t tell me, then show me.”
“What?” He’s not thinking what I can clearly see written all over his face, is he?
“Show me what you did when you watched me jerking off while thinking of you,” he repeats, pushing his chair away from his desk a little, giving me a view of all of him sitting in front of his desk and unbuttoning the first three buttons of his shirt and leaning back, getting himself comfortable and waiting for me to do as I’ve been told. His right hand goes to his ch
in and he leans his head in it, never looking away from the screen, but I know what that means. He’s settling in for the show. The show he expects from me. He made me do the same thing over and over again. Well, not the same, it usually involved me stripping down, or crawling towards him, or just kneeling in front of him, before he had his way with me. Just the anticipation and memory of all our times before has my skin tingling. The anticipation of what he has in mind this time has my clit pulsing almost painfully, my legs shifting restlessly. But I can’t crumble that easily. I won’t show him to which extent he has me in his command just yet. “How about I make a video of my own, just for you?” I purr and make my counteroffer. I know I’m only adding fuel to the fire, still I can’t help myself. I want him rattled as much as I am.
“No,” he waves his hand like he’s swatting a fly away, dismissing me. “You’ll chicken out and I want to know. I want to see.” I watch as his eyes trace something on the screen, but I’m too distracted by his hand going to his crotch and squeezing the outline of his hard dick, making it stand out more in his slacks.
“That’s it, pretty girl,” he whispers his encouragement for me to touch my skin. I didn’t even realize when my fingers started gliding along my skin. Starting from my side, they sneaked their way up and are now playing with the lacy edge of my bra. “Take it out,” he commands. God, it’s like the first time we were together, him controlling my every move. I’m too entranced to do anything but to listen and do what he wants. But now I won’t do exactly what he says, not right away. Instead of obeying him, I tilt my head and lean to the screen a little, closer to the camera. On my next swipe from edge to the edge of my cup, I catch the lace only with my index finger right at the middle and pull down just a little, showing him a flash of my nipple.
